In the Drowning Pool
by NotMarge
Summary: Kyle Spencer's future was bright. Then he died. And now he's back. Feral Kyle. Chapter 9 begins Part 2: On Dry Land, introducing spruced Kyle.
1. In the Drowning Pool

I do not own American Horror Story: Coven.

I do not own zombie boys. *relief*

In the Drowning Pool

Chapter 1: In the Drowning Pool

* * *

Beaten why for (why for)

Can't take much more

Here we go!

Here we go!

"Bodies" –Drowning Pool

* * *

Cold.

Cold.

Naked, cold.

Voices. In the dark.

Girl voices. Alien words.

Go to voices.

Fall short.

Formless voidblocking way to voices.

One voice, familiar.

Push through void.

Get to voice.

Can't.

Girl voices fade.

Alone again in blackness.

_No_.

Girl voice back.

Kind voice.

Reach out.

Reach out to voice.

Can't

Skin.

Soft skin.

Soft lips on cold lips.

Fades away.

_No._

_Don't . . . go._

_Don't._

_Leave._

_Me. _

_Here._

Reach out again.

Again.

Again.

Stretching, reaching, straining.

To voice.

Rise up.

See.

Her.

Dark eyes wide, frightened.

Long, brown hair straight down.

Pale, oval face. Pink, bow lips.

Young. Innocent. Beautiful.

_Know you._

Man.

Man scaring her.

Stop man scaring her.

Hitting, pounding fist.

Numb. Thick.

Wrong.

Pounding.

Hurting bad man. Bad man scaring her.

Screams, girl touch.

_Kyle._

Stop screaming, stop hitting.

Still, quiet.

There.

In her eyes.

* * *

Pain.

White pain.

All pain.

Clothes. Rubbing, fraying skin.

Pain.

Flaying.

Walking.

Jolting, jarring.

Not right.

Falling.

Wrong.

Pain.

Heavy, thick.

Wrong.

Pain.

Tearing. Searing. Writhing. Twisting. Pain.

Sick, sick, all sick.

Bad body.

Sick body.

Wrong body.

Wrong parts.

Pain.

_Get. _

_Out._

_Of._

_Body._

* * *

Lights. Bright lights. Moving lights.

Lights hurt.

Girl.

Pretty girl.

Nice girl.

Touching wrong skin.

Touch hurts.

Talking.

Words hurt.

"You died."

Died.

Die is dark. Die is quiet. Die is still.

And no pain.

_Die again._

Slamming bad body into door.

_Out_.

_Died._

_Die again._

_No pain._

Tears. Crying.

Girl crying. Tears.

Tears hurt inside.

_Die. _

_Wrong._

_Bad._

_Body._

". . . stayed dead."

Stayed dead.

Dead

Again.

_Be dead again._

Pull inside body.

Still.

Be still.

Quiet.

Be quiet.

Not hurt girl. Not make girl cry.

More screaming.

Girl screaming.

Screaming sounds hurt.

So.

Much.

Pain.

* * *

Day.

Light.

More light.

Light hurts.

Inside.

Noise.

Singing.

Sounds hurt.

Cold.

Hurt.

Pain.

Touch.

Touch hurts.

Spreading touch hurt.

Smearing, spreading touch hurt.

Woman hurting him.

Shaking cold hurts.

Breathing.

Air hurts, burns, sears.

Hurt inside.

Smells.

Bad smells.

Smells make stomach sick.

Twist, churn.

Girl. Pretty, scared girl.

Be still. Be quiet.

Not scare pretty girl.

Not make pretty girl cry.

Words.

Too many words.

Words hurt.

Stab.

Needles, knives in ears.

In brain, in eyes.

Scared, sick, pain.

Pretty girl moving away.

_Don't._

_Go._

_Stay _

_Close._

_Help._

_Me._

_Scared._

_Hurt._

_Sick._

_Wrong._

_Body._

Alone.

Wait.

To die.

Wait.

For pretty girl.

Wait.

Pretty girl closer.

_Touch._

_Me._

Touch hurts.

Less than other.

". . . stay here with me."

_NO._

_Don't._

_Leave._

_Me!_

_Scared._

_Pain._

_Safe with you._

_Stay with me._

_Don't _

_Go._

She did.

* * *

**Jeez, talk about imprinting, huh? Twilight's (ick) got nothing on how much Kyle immediately imprints on Zoe.**

**This chapter was very broken and fractured because Kyle here is at his most broken and fractured, I think. So this is all intentional.**

**He'll get better though it'll take a while. But you know that of course though, don't you? ;)**

**Kudos go to brigid1318 _and_ ****rahbraham7898 _and_ Jurana Keri for encouraging me to write this. I hope you enjoy it (if that's the right word, ha)!**

**And to my hubbie, inspiring this fic for me listening to this song while running on the treadmill. I can hear nothing else in my head now. Thanks, babe.**

**So everybody appreciates feedback. Leave a review if you like. **


	2. Nothing Wrong with Me

I do not own American Horror Story: Coven.

I do not own zombie boys. *relief*

In the Drowning Pool

Chapter 2: Nothing Wrong with Me

* * *

One - Nothing wrong with me

Two - Nothing wrong with me

Three - Nothing wrong with me

Four - Nothing wrong with me

'Bodies'

-Drowning Pool

* * *

Still now.

Soft bed. Soft light. Soft sounds.

Music.

More music.

Always music.

Woman singing.

Always singing.

Soothing.

Hypnotizing.

Quiet, still body.

No moving.

No pain.

Sleepy, drifty, quiet.

Woman talking.

Words.

Words like broken pictures. Floating in air.

". . . find her voice . . ."

_Voice? Lost? Where?_

". . . your best self . . . find your tribe . . ."

_Pretty girl. Best self. _

Warmer now.

Sleepy. Drifting.

No pain.

Calm.

* * *

Knocking. Voice.

Her.

Pretty girl.

Back.

_See pretty girl._

Happy.

Warm.

Seeing pretty girl.

Woman. Sitting on top.

Pulling clothes.

Touching skin.

_Get. Off._

_Mom._

Talking, talking.

Always talking.

Not listen.

_Pretty girl._

Closer.

Smiling.

Touching skin.

Nice touch.

Good touch.

"Kyle."

_Me._

"It's Zoe."

_You._

". . . remember me?"

_Pretty Zoe. Nice Zoe._

Slow, thick, wrong hand. Move.

_Know you._

Touch smooth, soft, straight hair.

_Like you._

_Missed you._

". . . take him home."

_Home? No home. Zoe home._

Woman angry, mad. Loud.

_Shhh. Quiet. Loud hurt._

Pretty girl. Pretty, quiet, sweet girl.

Quiet, nice words.

Touching chest. Closing shirt.

Nice girl.

Up, go with Zoe.

Good. Smells.

Zoe smells good.

_Go with you._

Moving hurt. Moving hard.

Thick, tough skin.

Wrong skin, wrong muscles.

Go with Zoe.

Crazy woman.

Wild. Pulling.

Pain.

Woman close.

More words.

". . . connected . . . abandoned . . . I was there . . ."

_Want._

_Zoe._

_Want Zoe._

_Want to go with Zoe!_

". . . wants to go home . . ."

_Home. No go home. Go with Zoe._

* * *

Bright sun, bright day.

Green ground, blue sky.

Pretty.

_No, bad. Bad place. _

Sick, scared.

_Not go. _

_Bad. _

_Scared. _

_Stay with Zoe._

Zoe, strong Zoe.

Walking, bad body not walking.

Wrong parts.

Closer.

Closer.

House closer.

_Bad house._

_Bad, sick. _

_No go. _

_S__tay with Zoe. _

_Want to stay with Zoe._

Bad, wrong body.

Stupid body.

Zoe gone.

Loud sounds.

Scared woman.

Bad woman.

Screaming, loud woman.

Rough touch.

Bad touch.

_No touch._

Zoe.

_Don't leave me. _

_Please._

_Don't._

_Leave._

_Me._

She did.

* * *

**The second I saw that mother I thought 'no, just no'. I didn't know how bad it would be, but I knew it would be something.**

**Thanks to Jurana Keri, brigid1318, littlexkiller, ****and my mystery guest for the positive reviews. You're very sweet to take a chance on this little oddball.**


	3. Something's Got to Give

I do not own American Horror Story: Coven.

I do not own zombie boys. *relief*

In the Drowning Pool

Chapter 3: Something's Got to Give

* * *

One - Something's got to give

Two - Something's got to give

Three - Something's got to give

Now!

Let the bodies hit the floor

'Bodies'

-Drowning Pool

* * *

Bed.

Blue bed.

Quiet bed.

Quiet, blue room.

Lonely. Sad.

_Miss Zoe._

". . . asleep?"

_No. No sleep. Miss Zoe._

Woman. Mother. Talking.

Quiet talking.

_Mother. Miss Zoe. Want Zoe._

Woman next to him.

Sick, scared stomach.

_Afraid, afraid. Why afraid?_

_Mother, mother good. Zoe said._

". . . take a shower . . ."

Shower. Water. Cold. Hot.

Hurt.

Soothe.

Showers good.

Showers bad.

Mothers come to showers.

Flashing pictures of mothers in showers.

And boys in showers.

And mothers with boys in showers.

Sick, scared.

_Mother bad._

_No, mother good. Zoe said._

". . . different person . . . body . . . like someone else . . ."

_Feel like someone else._

_Help._

_Help me._

_Scared._

". . . what's happening . . ."

_Dead. Was dead. Not dead._

". . .beautiful boy. . . together again . . ."

Lips.

Mother lips. Boy lips.

Bad.

Bad kissing.

_Stop._

Touching skin.

Bad touch.

_Stop._

Bad touch.

Flashing pictures.

Dark nights.

Sleeping boy.

Creeping mother.

Bad touch.

_Stop._

Sick.

Scared.

Ashamed.

Alone.

Bad mother, bad touch.

_Zoe wrong._

Mother hand.

_Stop._

Under sheets.

_Stop._

Tugging, pulling.

_Stop._

_Help._

No help.

No help for boy.

_Stop._

* * *

Floor, floor.

Sit on floor.

Floor safe.

Floor stable.

_Dirty boy. Bad boy. Mama's boy. _

_Bad Mama's dirty boy._

Rock, rock.

Rock is like music.

Music soothes, calms.

Rock, rock.

Keep out voice.

Bad mother voice.

Flashes, pictures.

Sick, ashamed, hurt, confused little boy sitting on floor, rocking.

Rocking, rocking, rocking away bad mother.

Sitting on floor, crying, scared, alone.

Rock away bad mother.

Rock away shame, confusion, twisted sickness.

Bad mother at door.

_No. __No more. Go away. No more touch._

_Bad mother._

" . . . invited your friend Zoe to join us for dinner tonight . . ."

_Zoe. Miss Zoe. See Zoe?_

_No, no. Bad. _

_No Zoe here. Bad place. Sick. Make Zoe sick._

_No Zoe._

Bad mother closer.

Rock, rock, rock away bad mother.

Bad mother everywhere.

Talking.

Voice.

Nice. Care.

Fake.

Bad mother voice fake.

Sick.

Wrong.

Rock, rock away bad mother voice.

". . . didn't tell me about her . . ."

_No Zoe. _

_No talk about Zoe. _

_Bad mother make sweet Zoe not sweet._

_Make Zoe ugly. Ugly like me. Sick, wrong, bad like me._

_Like you._

_No Zoe, Bad Mother._

Rock, rock, rock away bad mother.

Bad mother words, bad mother touch.

Rock away bad mother.

" . . . go so far . . . go on so long . . ."

Pictures, fast pictures.

Crying boy, alone, lost, hurt.

Bad mother, always bad mother.

Boy confused, ashamed, dirty.

No help.

Secret, shhhh, don't tell.

" . . . you needed it as much as I did . . ."

**NO. **

**LIE. **

**BAD MOTHER _LIE_.**

Standing. Silent.

Angry. So angry.

**BAD MOTHER _LIE_. **

**BLAME BOY. **

**MAKE BOY _BAD_. **

Rage.

Black.

Swelling.

Wall of black rage.

**NO MORE _LIE_. **

**NO MORE _HURT_. **

**NO MORE _WRONG_. **

Bad mother upset, pity, sorrow, hurt.

". . . sure you were dead . . ."

Dead, dead. Was dead. Not dead.

_Zoe made me not dead._

_Miss Zoe._

_Hate you._

Zoe good.

Mother bad.

Mother hurt boy, make boy cry.

Make boy feel dirty, sick, wrong.

**_HATE BAD MOTHER!_**

Bad mother kissing . . .

_Stop._

. . . touching . . .

_Stop._

. . . making boy dirty, sick, ashamed.

_**STOP**_**!**

Word, sound.

Ripping, clawing, tearing up.

Snarling, gnashing, savaging.

Swelling, filling dirty boy up, exploding . . .

_"**NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"**_

Roar at bad mother.

Hit. Beat.

Kill bad mother.

Make bad mother _stop_.

_Stop._

_No more bad mother._

_No more bad touch._

_No more._

* * *

Bad mother dead.

Still.

And quiet.

Boy alone.

Scared.

Quiet.

_Zoe. _

_Zoe make better._

_Miss Zoe._

_Come back, Zoe._

* * *

**There is no punishment severe enough for sexual abusers. Especially of the helpless. Especially of children.**

**Whew, I am _so_ glad to be past this episode.**

**Thanks to brigid1318 and my mystery guest for your reviews. And thanks to the silent readers as well. **


	4. All By Yourself But You're Not Alone

I do not own American Horror Story: Coven.

I do not own zombie boys. *relief*

In the Drowning Pool

Chapter 4: All by Yourself But You're Not Alone

* * *

Skin against skin

Blood and bone

You're all by yourself

But you're not alone

'Bodies'

-Drowning Pool

* * *

Zoe.

Zoe back.

And screaming.

And scared.

And back.

_Zoe. Missed you._

_Help m__e._

* * *

Not right.

Body not right.

Body wrong.

Parts wrong.

Boy wrong.

Not Kyle.

Bang head on hard.

Make body right.

Make boy right.

Make Zoe happy.

Make Zoe smile.

Smile, Zoe, smile.

"Kyle, no!"

Zoe sad.

Boy bad.

Bad, boy, bad.

"No Kyle."

Zoe.

Nice Zoe.

Sweet Zoe.

Touch soft. Eyes cry.

Bad boy make Zoe cry.

" . . . so sorry. . . didn't mean for . . any of it . . ."

Zoe good, Zoe nice.

_No sorry, Zoe._

Boy bad, boy wrong.

_Boy sorry, Zoe._

Leave.

Zoe good.

Zoe not need boy bad.

Zoe need good.

Leave.

And let Zoe be free and good.

* * *

Wild woman help.

Red dress.

Old boots.

Floppy hat.

Watering dead.

_Help._

". . . are you doing here?"

_Help._

_Make better._

_Please make better._

_Help._

* * *

Water splashing.

Cold.

Wet.

Pain.

Inside head.

Bad mother wash.

Bad mother dead.

Scared.

Afraid.

Scared.

Hands in the water.

Touching.

_No touch. _

Bad touch.

_Don't make me make you dead._

_No touch._

_NO TOUCH!_

Screaming, running.

_Not help! _

Smashing, throwing, breaking.

_Not help!_

Pushing woman.

_NOT HELP!_

Woman touching.

Words, quiet words.

Woman scared, woman lost.

Woman touch.

_NO TOUCH!_

Smashing music.

Stop music.

_Stop, music, stop._

No more pain.

No more hurt.

No more touch.

No more bad.

Woman on floor, crying.

". . . monster . . ."

Monster, boy, monster.

Boy bad monster.

Wrong.

All wrong.

Wrong body. Wrong parts.

Bad pictures, bad hands.

Zoe.

Zoe in door.

Zoe back.

_Missed Zoe._

_Stop bad boy, Zoe._

Run to pretty, scared girl.

_Help, Zoe._

_Don't leave._

_Sorry, Zoe, sorry._

Crying, wood floor hard on knees.

Arms, wrong arms wrapped around Zoe.

Strong arms.

Sad arms.

_Stay Zoe, stay._

_Help._

Scared.

_No go away._

Zoe's hands.

Gentle hands, good hands.

Touching head, tangled hair.

_Touch, Zoe, touch._

Boy bad.

Boy scared.

Boy wrong.

Safe with Zoe.

_Help, Zoe._

* * *

No water shack.

No bad house.

New house.

Zoe house.

Stay with Zoe.

Pretty Zoe.

Nice Zoe.

Soft Zoe.

No touch.

Chains.

Cold chains.

Chains trap.

Chains scare.

_Scared, Zoe!_

Zoe pretty eyes.

Nice eyes.

Calm eyes.

Zoe take care of boy.

Make boy good.

Be good boy.

Trust Zoe.

Watch Zoe.

Watch Zoe talk to wild woman.

_Stay close, Zoe._

_No leave._

Can't think when Zoe leave.

_Stay, Zoe, Stay._

Girl. Dead girl on table.

_Dead like me._

Zoe want to bring back.

Wild woman want to bury.

Make Zoe happy.

_Happy, Zoe, happy._

Dead girl stay dead.

Dead stay dead.

Quiet dead.

Dead not hurt.

No pain in dead.

Zoe sweet. Zoe kind.

Zoe wrong.

_Stop wrong, Zoe._

Zoe bring dead girl back.

Dead girl scream.

Screaming loud.

Screaming scary.

_Scared, Zoe. _

Dead girl up, screaming, coughing.

Talking.

Dead girl talking.

Dead girl not dead.

Dead girl talking.

Boy no talk.

Girl talk.

Boy want to talk.

Say nice things to Zoe.

Make Zoe smile.

Make Zoe happy.

Talking boy make Zoe happy.

Boy no talk.

Boy no think.

Boy no work.

Boy no good.

* * *

**Okay, I know there's lots of heavy stuff here but allow me a moment. I really shouldn't have been shocked at Evan Peters running around completely starkers, but I was. Jeez, I have seen more of that boy than I ever asked for. If I had been Tarissa or Lilly in that scene, I either would have reflexively run or laughed my head off. I know it's not funny but it kinda is.**

**Well, anyway, now that I've completely taken you out of the moment, I'll apologize and say thanks to brigid1318, Jurana Keri, and my mystery guest for continuing down this bizarre road with me. You're a resilient bunch I must say. :)**


	5. Nothing Wrong with Me Part 2

I do not own American Horror Story: Coven.

I do not own zombie boys. *relief*

In the Drowning Pool

Chapter 5: Nothing Wrong With Me Part 2

* * *

One - Nothing wrong with me

Two - Nothing wrong with me

Three - Nothing wrong with me

Four - Nothing wrong with me

'Bodies'

-Drowning Pool

* * *

Zoe gone.

Promised be back.

Touch boy cheek.

Good boy.

Quiet boy.

Be good boy.

Good boy scared.

_Scared, Zoe, scared._

Hands.

Arms.

Legs.

Chest.

Feet.

Not right.

Wrong.

Body wrong.

_Why body wrong?_

Pictures, music in head.

Buzzing sounds.

Singing.

Boys, all boys.

Drunk boys. Silly boys.

Fun boys.

Talking, laughing.

Happy.

Arm, green.

Green flower.

Clover. Green clover.

B -

Bi-

Bil-_ly_.

Not Irish.

Drunk, silly.

Fun.

Friend.

Dead.

Ankle.

Lines.

Words, not words.

"Beginning and end."

J-

Ji-

Jimm-_y_.

Laughing boys.

Silly boys.

Friends.

Now dead.

Boy.

Alive.

Alive and friends dead.

Not true, not right.

Friends dead.

Friends me.

Friends are me.

Friends are dead.

Alone. Me alone.

Friends good.

Want friends not die.

And me not live.

Dead, all dead.

Monster, boy.

Boy is monster.

Boy is wrong.

Boy is bad.

Die.

Die again.

_Want to die again._

* * *

Zoe back.

Missed Zoe.

_Help, Zoe._

Confused.

Scared.

Speak, boy, speak.

Speak to Zoe.

"What . . . am . . . I?"

_Help, Zoe._

_Please help._

Gun.

Gun in Zoe hand.

Silver.

Gun.

Guns kill.

_Zoe kill me?!_

_NO, ZOE!_

Zoe talking.

Soft, gentle, kind.

Like Zoe talk.

Before gun.

". . . great guy, Kyle."

_Kyle._

_Me._

_Zoe._

_You._

"You died."

Died.

". . . let you go . . ."

_No go, Zoe. Stay._

". . . my power . . . new . . . used it to bring you back . . ."

Zoe.

Bring me back.

Zoe, good.

". . . killed your mother . . ."

Mother bad, Zoe. Bad mother.

Bad mother stopped.

Bad mother dead.

Killed bad mother.

Killed bad mother.

No more pain.

No more scared.

No more bad mother.

". . . fix this . . ."

_Fix for Zoe._

Bad boy make Zoe sad.

Kill bad boy.

Not Zoe.

Get gun.

Bad boy kill bad boy.

Bad boy be with dead friends.

No pain.

No wrong parts.

No hurt.

No Zoe.

_Miss you, Zoe._

Gun, little.

Shiny.

Little shiny gun.

Metal.

Taste bad.

Taste yuck.

Zoe cry. Zoe scream.

Zoe grab gun.

_Stop, Zoe, stop._

_Bad boy die._

_Die and make Zoe free._

Gun loud.

Gun miss.

Boy not die.

Boy stupid.

Boy live.

Zoe take gun.

Zoe hold bad boy.

Warm, soft.

Nice.

Zoe cry. Zoe talk.

". . . don't want you to die."

Nice Zoe.

Sweet Zoe.

_Love Zoe._

* * *

**Jeez, little girl, make up your mind, huh? I mean, you're the one who _brought_ the gun, right? *facepalm***

**Thanks to Jurana Keri and brigid1318 for your continued reviewing support.**

**And hey, guest, the threesome thing? I dunno, guess we'll just have to see, yeah? I'm sure you'll let me know. :)**


	6. Something's Got to Give Part 2

I do not own American Horror Story: Coven.

I do not own zombie boys. *relief*

In the Drowning Pool

Chapter 6: Something's Got to Give Part 2

* * *

One - Something's got to give

Two - Something's got to give

Three - Something's got to give

Now!

'Bodies'

-Drowning Pool

* * *

Bright room.

Clean, white, quiet.

Nice room.

Zoe room.

Zoe.

Chains off.

Zoe take chains off.

_Better, Zoe._

Feel better.

Kyle feel better.

Zoe.

Pretty, big, dark eyes.

_Look. See Kyle._

_See me._

". . . trust you, Kyle."

Trust Kyle.

Me Kyle.

Trust me.

" . . . learn . . . communicate."

Big word.

Hard word.

_Easy word, Zoe?_

". . . hungry . . . tired . . . might do bad . . ."

Zoe close. Zoe care.

Be good for Zoe.

Focus on Zoe.

Zoe help.

Listen to Zoe.

". . . hungry . . . say 'food'."

Pictures, food.

Hungry.

Speak, Kyle, speak.

Make Zoe happy.

"F . . . oo . . .d."

Hard. Talking hard.

Thinking hard.

Head hurt, thick.

Zoe smile.

Zoe happy.

Make Zoe happy.

Try for Zoe.

Try hard.

More words, more pictures.

Too hard.

Words too hard.

_TOO HARD, ZOE!_

Scream, yell.

Mad.

Stupid, Zoe.

Kyle.

Kyle stupid.

Me stupid.

Talk, Kyle.

Talk to Zoe.

"St . . . oo . . . pid."

_Sorry, Zoe._

Boy stupid.

Too stupid.

Zoe smile.

Zoe not leave.

Zoe nice.

". . . _not_ stupid."

Zoe sweet.

Zoe nice.

Zoe wrong.

_Wrong, Zoe, wrong._

Kyle stupid.

"Everything . . . stuck . . . in your head."

Zoe closer, touching stupid boy.

Sweet Zoe.

_Why nice, Zoe?_

Boy not nice.

Boy not good.

Boy bad.

". . . help you . . . function . . . normal person . . ."

Normal person.

Be normal.

For Zoe.

Make Zoe happy.

_Try again, stupid boy._

Food, eat food.

_Yuck!_

Mushy food.

Cold food.

Hate food.

Not picture food.

Food fall.

Boy eat no food.

Stupid boy not eat.

Yelling, throwing, angry.

_Stupid, stupid, boy!_

* * *

Zoe leave.

Close door.

_No, Zoe, don't go._

_Kyle be better._

New girl.

Sick girl.

Dead girl.

Dead girl not dead.

Not nice.

Dead girl not nice.

Dead girl like bad mother.

Kyle scared.

Kyle alone with not nice dead girl.

Dead girl not Zoe.

" . . . were dead. So was I."

_Same._

_Me?_

_You?_

_Same?_

_We are same?_

". . . see a light, did you?"

_Light?_

_No light._

_Zoe light._

". . . cold . . . dark . . . nothing."

Dead girl, not nice.

But dead girl _know_.

And dead girl sad.

Sad like boy.

Me.

_Dead girl sad like me._

" . . . empty here."

Empty.

No Zoe.

Empty with no Zoe.

And no light.

Wet.

Tears.

Down face.

Understand.

Boy understand.

Reach out, touch dead girl not dead.

Touch.

Touch skin.

Warm.

Hold.

Understand.

Scared.

Sad.

_I understand._

* * *

Dead girl warm inside.

Dead girl feel good.

Bad boy feel good.

Feel good with dead girl.

Feel hard.

Feel more.

Feel free.

Dead girl like dead boy inside her.

Dead girl feel.

Dead girl say feel better.

* * *

Zoe.

Wet.

Towel.

Pale.

Big, dark eyes.

Want Zoe feel better.

Want to feel Zoe.

Dead girl.

Mad-i-son.

Kiss check.

Nice.

Not Zoe.

_Want Zoe._

Dead girl want Zoe.

Hold out hand.

With dead girl.

Mad-i-son.

_Come, Zoe. Feel good._

With Kyle.

Feel good with Kyle.

With me.

And Mad-i-son.

_Feel good with us._

_With me._

* * *

**A lot of things we're not taking into detail because, frankly, Kyle can't right now. But when he's all 'spruced up', he will recall and revisit some issues that you may be interested in getting more in depth with. And of course he'll be going forward with all the new stuff too.**

**Yeah, Guest, all this has been _really_ bleak; I need that puppy too. But I can tell you the story's all written out and it does get better. Saturday is going to be a breath of fresh air I think. Plus the final three chapters are more or less originals and designed for feels and tingles and chills of differing kinds. *wink, wink. **

**So trust me and we'll get through this with Kyle and be better on the other side.**

**And I'll continue updating daily because the story's all finished. Eighteen chapters in all. **

**Enough talk from me then. Thanks to brigid1318 (who has been helping me here and there with this journey, thanks, sweetie), Jillow Bear (oh my gosh, check out her profile pic, I had to sit down! Oh and excellent song! I'm hooked!), Angelique (merci mon bon amie), and my enthusiastic guest reviewer (I'm really glad this story's having the effect, thank you so much!) for speaking up out there. **


	7. Out of the Drowning Pool Part 1

I do not own American Horror Story: Coven.

I do not own zombie boys. *relief*

Out of the Drowning Pool

Chapter 7: Out of the Drowning Pool Part 1

* * *

Smart.

Be smart.

Smart for Zoe.

Boy be smart for Zoe.

Kyle be smart for Zoe.

Pictures. Bright colors.

Not in head.

On screen.

Pictures, voices on screen.

Push screen, touch screen.

". . . be on our way."

Look at Zoe.

Learn, Zoe.

Boy learn.

Kyle learn.

_I learn._

_Like me, Zoe?_

Want to kiss.

Kiss more fun than learn.

Easier. Feel better.

Zoe no kiss.

Kiss bad?

No kiss Zoe.

Kyle no kiss Zoe.

I no kiss Zoe.

Zoe smile.

Want to know my head.

_Empty, Zoe. _

_Empty head._

_All but you._

Zoe smile.

Boy, me, _I_ , smile.

Smile for Zoe.

_Love Zoe._

Door open.

Dead girl not dead.

Mad-i-son.

Zoe move away.

Back, Zoe.

Come back.

Want _you_.

Want be with _you_.

Not Mad-i-son.

". . . sharing him, remember?"

Sharing?

No sharing.

Want Zoe.

Mad-i-son kiss.

Kiss boy.

Kiss me.

Tongue.

Mad-i-son tongue.

In mouth.

Feel good.

But too much.

Zoe.

_No mad, Zoe. Please no mad._

_Wanted to kiss _you.

". . . porn . . . off . . . any other guy . . ."

Mad-i-son likes skin.

Kyle skin.

My skin.

Just want skin.

Skin good.

". . . learn something . . . have a life?"

Zoe likes brain.

Kyle brain.

My brain.

Want Kyle, _me_, smart.

Be smart for Zoe.

Skin for Mad-i-son.

Hands. Holding. Zoe.

Zoe holding my hand.

Nice.

Sweet.

Gentle.

Mad-i-son.

Hard.

Rough.

Mad.

Mad Mad-i-son.

". . . good, baby . . . fun later."

Fun? Skin fun?

Skin fun with Zoe?

Mad-i-son go.

Zoe. Here.

Zoe still here.

Smiling.

Like Kyle.

Like me.

Kyle smile.

_Love Zoe._

String in screen.

Hard on head.

Voices in head.

_Whoa._

_Magic, Zoe._

_Zoe is magic._

_Whoa._

Zoe go.

I stay.

_Stay, Zoe, stay._

_I learn for you._

_Make you happy._

_Talk to you._

_Make you smile._

_Soon._

_Learn good and talk to you._

_ Soon._

* * *

Long time alone.

Sleepy.

Tired.

"This road goes two ways."

Tired of learning.

Boy, me, Kyle, tired of learning.

_I'm tired of learning._

Door open.

Zoe.

Zoe. Missed Zoe.

Missed you, Zoe.

_I missed you, Zoe._

Hug Zoe.

Touch Zoe.

Warm, soft Zoe.

Smell good, feel good.

Good Zoe.

Worried Zoe.

Better, Zoe.

Feel better, Zoe.

_I make you feel better, Zoe._

No kiss.

Bad kiss?

Bad to kiss?

Bad for me to kiss you?

Not want me.

Sad, Zoe.

". . . not you . . . attack . . . get you out of here."

_NO!_

No leave.

Stay.

Stay here.

Stay with Zoe.

Words in head.

Words for Zoe.

Keep words in head for Zoe.

Keep words in head to say to Zoe.

Talk to Zoe.

Talk to Zoe now.

Tell what in head.

"This . . . road . . . goes . . . two . . . ways."

Zoe not understand.

Zoe not understand me.

"What does it mean, Kyle?"

Kyle stay.

I stay.

I stay with you.

I take care of Zoe.

I take care of you.

Be . . . bec . . . because . . .

Make Zoe.

Make Zoe understand.

Make Zoe understand me.

"I . . . love . . . you."

_I love you, Zoe._

"I love you, too."

Love.

Me.

Zoe.

Zoe. Loves. Me.

_Zoe loves me!_

* * *

**I swear, is Murder House the _only_ season Evan Peters doesn't have two girls _fighting_ over him? Asylum: Grace and Alma. Coven: Zoe and Madison. Freak Show: Fat Barbara and Maggie. Jeez, people, there _are_ other guys out there . . . Okay, you're right, you're right. Not in AHS. There's just him. And his dark eyes that I cannot decide if they are deep and entrancing or creepy and soulless.**

**Any_who_, thanks again to Jillow Bear, Enthusiastic Guest (yep, I named you), and brigid1318 for your encouraging reviews!**

**And I agree, brigid1318, Kyle is pulling a bit of an R, but I think Kyle is less cognizant of the two. For now anyway. **


	8. Out of the Drowning Pool Part 2

I do not own American Horror Story: Coven.

I do not own zombie boys. *relief*

Out of the Drowning Pool

Ch 8: Out of the Drowning Pool Part 2

* * *

(Singsong, singsong; boy with the borrowed ding-dong)

_Working hard._

_Working hard to learn for Zoe._

_Working hard to make Zoe happy._

_Going to make Zoe happy._

_Do more now._

_Feed self._

_Brush teeth._

_Brush hair._

_Dress self._

_Take shower._

_Working hard for Zoe._

_Working hard for me._

_I love Zoe._

_Zoe loves me._

Feeling better.

Kyle feeling better.

I feeling better.

I'_m _feeling better.

On floor.

Floor safe.

Floor comfort.

Work on floor.

Work to learn.

Learn for Zoe.

Learn for me.

Noises, voices outside door.

Not Zoe.

Not Mad-i-son.

Not matter.

Not im-por-tant.

Scratching, scratching.

Woof.

What goes woof?

Bird goes tweet.

Pig goes oink.

Cat goes meow.

What goes woof?

Lady. Old lady.

Old lady in black goes woof?

No.

Animal.

Pointy ears.

Four legs.

Long tail.

Warm, soft fur.

Black and not white.

Wet tongue.

"Dog."

Happy.

Sweet.

Good dog.

Nice dog.

Love dog.

Hug dog.

Crunch.

* * *

_Dog?_

_Dog?_

_Dog?!_

_"NO!"_

Dog dead.

Kill dog.

Kyle kill dog.

Bad boy kill dog.

Dog. Dead.

Boy. Kill.

Scream.

Pound fists floor.

Cry.

Dog dead.

**_"NOOOOOOOOO!"_**

Woman.

Mad.

Bad.

Bad boy.

". . . my dog, boy . . . wrong with you . . ."

Boy.

Screaming.

Pounding fists.

Dog dead.

Bad boy.

Stupid boy.

Kill.

Dog.

Blackness.

* * *

Voice.

Woman voice.

Strange words.

Strange body.

Wrong body.

Wrong parts.

Hurt.

White pain.

Hurt.

Dying.

Dead.

Black.

Silence.

Cold.

Nothing.

* * *

Breathe.

Easy.

Body.

Right.

Warm.

Air.

Mind.

Calm.

Quiet.

Pain.

Gone.

Sounds.

Quiet.

Smells.

Perfume.

Light.

Bright.

Woman. In black.

Hunched over, stands now.

Crosses arms.

Smiles.

No.

Smirks.

"There. Feel better?"

Sit up.

Blink.

Think.

Smiles.

"Yeah, I am . . . thank you . . . but . . . what . . . what did you do to me?"

She smiles.

* * *

**Is that the sun breaking through the clouds here? ;)**

**And yes, I did add some after the 'crunch' because, well, _something_ happened, right?**

**Thanks to brigid1318 and Hilarious Guest for your reviews. **

**Thank you also to MaverickPaxAPunch for cruising through the whole thing in under a half hour, wow! That's a lot of angst, sweetie! Do you need a hug or a cuddle or something?**


	9. On Dry Land

I do not own American Horror Story: Coven.

I do not own zombie boys. *relief*

Part 2: On Dry Land

On Dry Land

* * *

Hi. I'm Kyle Spencer.

I used to be a college student.

I was smart. I was nice. I was handsome.

But then I died.

Zoe brought me back.

She talked to me and kissed me and woke me back up from the dead.

It didn't go so well.

Because Zoe and Madison put me back together with the body parts of my different dead friends.

From the neck up, I'm me.

But everything else belongs to other people.

Even my dick's not mine.

And nothing felt right, nothing worked right.

Everything felt wired wrong and unhinged.

And my brain was all scrambled, stirred up with a fork.

I guess being dead a couple of days does than to a person.

Zoe tried to take care of me, but she didn't know how.

Misty Day, this hippie swamp witch, took care of me too.

She's kinda weird and crazy on Stevie Nicks.

But there are worse things.

Like my mom.

She was sick, twisted. She made me her dirty boy.

Made me do things to her.

Did things to me.

I thought I got away at college.

Thought I got better.

Until Zoe took me back home and left me there.

I'd worked so hard to get away and then it started back all over again.

I don't blame Zoe. She didn't know and I couldn't tell her.

Even worse, this time I couldn't even think straight enough to go away in my mind and pretend I wasn't there while my mother did those things to me that made me shameful and sick inside.

Because I wasn't me.

I was a monster, a mindless, violent thing.

And I finally killed her, my mother.

Bashed her face in with a sports trophy.

And couldn't think for myself enough to even wash the blood off.

But she really kind of deserved it.

She was sick, a poison that made others, namely me, sick and twisted up too.

I'm glad she's dead.

And now she'll never hurt me or anyone else ever again.

So it's okay.

Zoe found me again and I could tell she was really confused and scared.

But I couldn't communicate.

Couldn't talk, couldn't make her understand.

One day I'll tell her why I did what I did.

Not to hurt her, not to make her sad or cry, though she probably will.

But so she will understand why I was acting that way.

So she will know me. And forgive me.

Anyway, I ran away from Zoe, trying to save her from my badness, and went back to Misty Day because she was the only other face in my confused head.

Like a dog homing its way back its master.

But she's a little crazy, unbalanced, like I've already said. But then again, I was too.

She tried to help, tried to bathe me, clean me up. But that made me think of my mom so I broke her Stevie to punish her.

And because I couldn't stand hearing the warbly trilling anymore.

I shouldn't have done that to her. She was only trying to help.

And she _really_ loves her Stevie.

So I think I'll have to buy her another. I bet Zoe will help if I ask her.

She'll think it's sweet. She'll smile.

I like it when Zoe smiles.

Madison doesn't smile.

Not even when she does.

The smile is on her face but not in her eyes.

Madison was dead. Like me.

Only longer. Much longer.

She said she didn't see a light.

She wouldn't.

She's not a light kind of girl.

I didn't see a light either.

But that doesn't mean anything because I saw Zoe.

She's my light.

My sweet Zoe.

She never gave up on me.

She taught me to eat, to dress myself.

She taught me to talk, to communicate.

She took care of me.

Even when I was screaming and throwing things and violent and scared and feral, she never ran away.

She was going to kill me, once that I know of.

Put me out of my misery and give me peace.

I didn't want to die. I wanted live. I wanted to be with her.

But she was trying to help. Still trying to help.

But when I saw her eyes, I knew I couldn't let her do it. It would kill her light. So I took the gun away to do it myself and save her.

But she saved me.

Again.

And told me she didn't want me to die.

So I decided to try and live.

It wasn't easy.

It's still not.

I miss my friends. Well, some of them. Not all. Some actually turned out to be really bad guys.

I miss my life. But just some parts.

But I have this one now.

And it's better than it was.

I'm sorry about the dog.

I didn't mean to kill it; I was hugging it, loving it.

I'll be more careful in the future.

Because I'm the coven guard dog now.

Ms. Fiona fixed my brain and my body.

I owe her.

I was messed up real bad.

I didn't want to be.

I wanted to be okay.

For me. For Zoe.

And I am now.

Mostly.

I'll never graduate college or be an engineer.

I'm not smart enough anymore.

But that's okay.

I've got a functional body now, a calm mind.

And that's a start.

"Gin."

* * *

**There, better? Yeah, me too. I've waited a loooong time reveal spruced Kyle and he only gets better from here on out. Yay!**

**I must admit when Kyle killed the dog, I nearly cried. I just knew he was done for. Then, when I saw him and Fiona are sitting playing cards and him acting all normal, I nearly cried again in relief and happiness.**

**Thanks to brigid1318 (yeah, me too), Jillow Bear (that is hilarious! XD), MaverickPaxAPunch (I'm glad that worked for you, I thought he might regress like that), and Gracious Guest (hope you enjoyed it) for surviving nine chapters of feral Kyle. You're a loyal, tough lot and I must commend you. **


	10. Brown-Eyed Girl

I do not own American Horror Story: Coven.

I do not own zombie boys. *relief*

On Dry Land

Chapter 10: Brown-Eyed Girl

* * *

"Kyle?"

Zoe.

Pretty, sweet Zoe.

All dressed in black and wearing a big hat that makes her look even paler, even younger, even more vulnerable than she really is.

And she's shocked, I can tell. She whispers my name like she thinks she must be seeing things. Like she wants to hope but doesn't dare to.

And staring at me.

Me sitting here, playing cards, and speaking sentences like a normal human being again instead of a mindless crazy thing.

I guess she's forgotten what I was like when I was a real boy.

I'd nearly forgotten too.

_Hi, Zoe._

I smile mildly at her, feeling a little sheepish at her big, brown, wondering eyes staring at me like I'm an alien from another planet or something.

Like she's never seen me before.

But I remember.

I don't have all my memories back.

And some of them I'm glad to let go.

But I do remember the first time I saw her.

* * *

College frat party.

She walked in with Madison. All done up in makeup and a super tight black dress and heels.

Looking like she wished she could put on something loose and soft and flowing.

Looking like she was nervous and shy and a little scared to be where she was.

She was the most beautiful girl in the room.

And all I wanted to do was talk to her, look at her, be near her.

I casually followed her to the ice sculpture like someone in a daze, watched her through the transparent wall of frozen water.

The details of her face were blurred, cloudy, distorted.

But I still gazed at her.

And I just knew it was going to be the best evening of my life.

If all I did was talk to her, get her to smile, maybe laugh a little, I'd be content and satisfied.

And if I could get her to give me her phone number, well, I'd probably be over the moon.

Whatever that means.

I didn't even know her name yet.

But I knew I liked her more than everyone else at that party.

I could tell she noticed me, was a little uncomfortable with my entranced gaze.

But I smiled, I couldn't help it.

She wasn't like the rest of the party tramps here. They were fine and all.

But she was pure, innocent.

Sweet and ethereal and clean looking.

With those big, bright, wondering eyes.

Completely unlike that slinking, predatorial vixen she'd arrived with.

_That_ girl was trouble personified.

_She_ was looking for someone to make pay for all her unappreciated perfection and beauty.

_She_ was going to make someone suffer tonight.

And I was just glad it wasn't me.

Because I wasn't going anywhere near _her_.

I was going to talk to that lovely angel pretending not to see me through the ice sculpture.

If I was lucky, she might even talk back.

* * *

And she did.

Her name was Zoe.

She was funny . . .

"Is that your superpower? You can _sense_ dehydration?"

. . . and intelligent . . .

"I think frats are full of fascists."

. . . and self-contained. And not in that 'I'm so much better than you' kind of way most girls tried so hard to be.

She just wasn't trying to be the everything and nothing that all the other girls were trying to be.

She was just her.

And she was even more beautiful close up.

_And_ she wasn't just one more frat slut looking to get wasted and laid.

I liked her even more.

I followed her around, trying to stay in her orbit, her conversation, her air just as long as possible.

And . . .

_A finishing school? Did they even _have_ those anymore_?

This was definitely an interesting girl.

And I was definitely interested. So interested.

I remember standing on the stairs, gazing up at her, simply enjoying the conversation we were involved in.

Her modesty. Her unpretentious nature. Her lack of self-involvement.

Her ability to surprise me at every turn.

"Kyle, I like you."

_Ooh, she _likes_ me? Did she just _admit_ it?_

Girls at these parties never admitted to liking a guy. Not until they threw their legs up in the air, anyway. And even then, they'd never actually _admit_ it.

"But it's not going to work out."

_Awww, what if I said pretty please? With sugar and a cherry on top?_

I think I took it fairly well, all things considered.

Plus, I could tell that she really did want to be with me.

And then our conversation, which I was quite satisfied to continue all night regardless of whether or not she thought we were a possibility, took an unexpected turn.

"Have you seen Madison?"

_Who? The turbo slut? Who cares?_

But I couldn't say that. It might've made her laugh or smile in that way she'd swear she hadn't, but then again I also didn't want to take the chance pissing her off.

So I looked around and couldn't find her.

Then I had a thought after the second time Zoe and I met up.

What if she went upstairs with somebody?

Upstairs was a different world from downstairs.

Downstairs was music and lights and crowds.

Upstairs was dark corners and closed doors.

And beds.

So I went to check.

And I was right.

Just not in the way I thought.

They were raping her.

And laughing.

And videoing.

And it was _awful_.

Everything that Madison is, everything that she's done, I still wouldn't have wanted her to suffer that sort of shame and indignity and pain.

Not ever.

Even if I hadn't been my mother's sick and twisted victim I wouldn't have wanted it.

And they thought I wanted a _turn_.

I could've killed them all, my drunk, stupid frat brothers.

They'd pull some stunts in the past, we all had, sure.

But _nothing_ like this.

Gang-banging some drugged-up party skank was a step too far for anybody.

My mind went into a murderous rage, thinking it could have been Zoe there, if she'd talked to the wrong person before me.

Thinking that nobody deserved that kind of treatment.

And so I went to help her, as repulsed as I was by the entire situation, I went to help her, take her out of there.

But they stopped me and I fought them.

My frat brothers.

I was going to get that phone for evidence for the cops. I was going to make them face justice.

I forgot about the party and my vows to my frat bros and my scholarship and everything else.

I forgot about Zoe.

Which was a bummer.

Because then I died.

And I never even got a chance to say goodbye to her.

Or tell her how beautiful and interesting and sweet she was.

How her smile was like a warming sun after a long, cold winter.

Or the peace and happiness of a quiet full moon.

Or that I wasn't like the rest of them, that I would treat her with respect and care.

I died and never got to say any of it.

* * *

But now, maybe I'll get another chance.

It probably won't be as eloquent as it would have been before.

But I still want to say it, want her to hear it.

In the white kitchen of Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies, sitting next to Ms. Fiona, the witch who had restored most of me, I smile a little at sweet Zoe.

She's clearly struggling to process everything.

_Me too, brown-eyed girl. Me too._

I shuffle the cards and try to keep my expression casual as Ms. Fiona talks about 'sprucing' me up like the lawn shrubs or something for her card games.

She's being modest of course. What she did to me was a lot more than trimming outgrowing branches.

She took a mindless, violent, screaming bag of pus and bones and turned it into, well, _me_.

She says I'm not all there and even though that stings a little, I don't let her see.

Because I do owe her for fixing me.

And I know she's right.

But I think I can get better.

And something deep inside my brain whispers that I should probably keep information like that on the down low.

Whatever that means.

I'll figure it out.

I glance up at Zoe again and see that little smile on her face. That smile I haven't seen in so long. That smile that makes me tingly and a little nervous.

"Deal!" Ms. Fiona casually directs at me.

So I do.

And quietly enjoy the stares of the three girls who stand frozen in shock before me.

Especially Zoe.

* * *

**Yeah, I know there are more people in this scene, but I don't think Kyle sees anybody but Zoe.**

**Okay, so I'm not going back and revisiting everything that happened to Kyle before Fiona worked her magic, but I figured this was a pretty significant event, him meeting Zoe and all.**

**Thanks to brigid1318 (and the mixed emotions, I know, right? Bittersweet.), Jillow Bear (hope you don't get bored now that Kyle's sorta normal again), MaverickPaxsAPunch (what inspiring words!), littlexkiller (thanks for your poetic reviews!), and Gracious Guest (yep, that's our Mad Madison) for speaking up!**


	11. The Witch Girl and Her Guard Dog

I do not own American Horror Story: Coven.

I do not own zombie boys. *relief*

On Dry Land

Chapter 11: The Witch Girl and Her Guard Dog

* * *

The little witch had died. In a bathtub of all things.

Nan.

It made Zoe sad.

I didn't really feel anything.

She had seemed nice.

She had smiled big and bright when I talked to her.

Thanked me for not talking in her head so loudly like everyone else.

Whatever that meant.

I wasn't happy to see her go.

I wasn't anything.

Except for Zoe.

When her face was sad at the cemetery, and her eyes silently leaked tears, I felt bad that I couldn't fix her pain.

But I could stay there next to her.

Stay there and care about her.

While Ms. Fiona spoke and the others stood and listened in silence.

Mostly silence.

The strange red-haired one spoke of Misty Day and Ms. Cordelia worried over those left of the coven.

And Mad Madison casually dismissed a human being's worth and value, along with everything else in the world.

Which hurt and angered Zoe even more.

And then the angry black girl showed up and starting arguing with the scary black woman again. And leading a heavyset older woman on a chain like a dog.

Grown women smacking each other and spitting on each other like wild animals.

_Boy, they sure are angry. I think I'll stay right here and be quiet. Right here next to Zoe. And away from them._

I have to admit I was a little jealous of her, that heavy, angry, white woman, for not having any scars.

Most of mine I can cover, except for the one on my face, under my eye.

I wonder if Zoe would like me better if I didn't have all those ugly thick scars all over me.

They were still arguing, those women dressed in black, still arguing amongst themselves.

And as coven watchdog, I didn't know whether they would need their own separate pens or if they'd just tear those apart as well.

But I did know they were scared. And paranoid.

Of everything on the outside and everyone on the inside too.

Zoe held onto my hand for comfort and I was glad I could do something, anything, to make her feel better.

* * *

Back at the house, Zoe was tired, she said. Wanted to sleep, she said. Was afraid of nightmares, she said.

So when she laid down, I laid down with her.

Wrapped my arms around her, to protect her, to comfort her.

To keep her safe from the nightmares.

I lay there, enjoying her warmth and bright presence more than the afternoon sun that gleamed in through the window.

I soaked her in and tried to make her feel safe.

I listened to the air quietly moving in and out of her lungs, her blood rushing through her delicate body.

I reveled in her presence and felt my own self quiet further.

I was drifting there as she slept and felt Mad Madison lay down on my other side. She needed comfort and attention too, I guess.

But I pretended to be asleep so I could stay there with Zoe and ignore Mad Madison.

And eventually I did sleep.

Safe near my light.

_I love you, Zoe._

* * *

I never really thought of bathrooms as places to stay a long time.

Being a frat boy, our bathrooms were usually growing things and so smelly you thought something had died there.

This one was nice, though. And very clean. That angry old woman kept it very clean.

Zoe was in here now and so I was too. Hunched up against the wall, as a guard dog to my witch girl.

It was quiet and dark. She'd turned out all the lights and lit candles.

I was supposed to be quiet and not ask a bunch of questions.

Which was easy for me.

But when she filled the tub and held up a thin white candle, I couldn't resist my curiosity.

She started speaking words I didn't understand. Words that made me nervous.

I crawled over and peeked up over the lip, worried something might jump out and eat her up.

Instead of a boogeyman under the bed, there might be a Loch Ness monster in the tub.

Whatever that was.

But there wasn't anything but water.

Zoe saw something though. Something that made her upset.

"They drowned her. Why would they kill Nan?"

I didn't have any answers for her. I didn't know. I wasn't the witch. I was the guard dog.

* * *

_What the _hell_ are those?_

Ms. Fiona fixed me mostly but I still am unable to clearly communicate all my thoughts and feelings through words.

Such as how disturbing Mad Madison's silver-gold, leopard-print pants were.

The best I can say is that they were bad, very bad.

Very, very bad.

She didn't seem to be worried.

Not about that at least.

What she was worried about was being the most important thing to everyone ever.

Because she was mad that Zoe and I were in the bathroom alone together.

And she was mad that Zoe was still upset over her friend Nan.

_And_ she was mad that I followed Zoe everywhere instead of her.

And Zoe seemed to be reaching the end of her rope.

"We should have let you _rot_."

I think Mad Madison was frustrated that she couldn't control everybody and everything.

So she decided to control me.

She pushed me down on a bed, thunked headphones (I knew what they were now) painfully over my ears, and turned to Zoe.

I knew my place. I was supposed to be quiet and wait until they were done talking.

Because I was the dog.

_' . . . live for the applause, applause, applause_ . . .'

_What . . . the . . . _hell_?_

'. . . live for the way that you cheer and scream for me . . .'

I hung on as long as I could.

'. . . give me the thing that I love, I'll turn the lights on . . .'

But then I couldn't take the torture anymore so I reached up and pawed off the silver, spiky headphones.

As Mad Madison turned back around, knelt, and started jerking at my belt.

I knew what she wanted.

The same thing my mother had.

I was supposed to give it to her whenever she wanted it.

And I knew my place.

It wasn't difficult to let her. It felt good. Of course it did. I mean, whatever else I am, I am a _guy_.

But I looked up and saw Zoe's sad face. And knew it made her unhappy.

And saw her turn away.

She wouldn't stop Mad Madison.

I didn't know why.

I only knew I didn't want Mad Madison to touch me like that anymore, only Zoe.

Even if she hardly ever did, for whatever reason, I didn't want to hurt her like that.

I would rather wait for the pleasure with Zoe than feel it with anyone else.

Much less mean, hateful Mad Madison Montgomery. And her disturbing pants.

But it would have to be me that said so. My decision.

"No!" I burst out, shoving Mad Madison away from my boy parts. "Not anymore!"

I got up and headed toward Zoe.

"I love Zoe."

The words were for Mad Madison's ears, but I looked in Zoe's beautiful dark eyes when I said them.

I could tell it made her happy. Which made me glad because it was true.

So true.

And it felt good to stand up for myself and say it.

It sure made Mad Madison even madder though.

"You owe _me_!"

_Maybe before but not anymore. I can think for myself now._

It made me angry, the way Mad Madison acted toward everyone. I hated it every time she tried to cut someone, especially Zoe, down to make herself bigger. It made me feel like I wanted to put my hands over her mouth and stop her breath until she was quiet and still.

Forever.

So maybe that's what being a guard dog means.

Or maybe Ms. Fiona didn't fix me as well as she thought she did.

Or maybe I just love Zoe.

In any case, Mad Madison took it too far.

She broke the big mirror, made the place rattle like an earthquake. Pictures fell off the wall and broke everywhere.

And she even made a lamp fly off a table and hit my Zoe in the back of the head.

Which scared me 'cause I didn't want her hurt.

And I didn't want her to be dumb like me.

When I jumped up to hold Zoe, scared and helpless, it all stopped.

And the bizarre red-haired woman stormed in and yelled at Mad Madison.

That made me feel a little better.

Until Mad Madison turned around and won the argument again.

"Crotch-less panties for everyone."

_I don't know what those are but they sound itchy._

And threatened me.

"Taking you apart is going to be so much more fun."

I didn't bother to respond, just held my Zoe close to me, rubbing her back and hoping her head was okay.

As Mad Madison stalked out of the room in those ridiculously awful pants.

I wish just once somebody would shut her up for good and make her stop hurting people.

* * *

**Okay, I've really got nothing against Lady Gaga per se. Although 'Perform This Way' (go Weird Al!) kicks 'Born this Way' all the way to the curb. I just really wanted to make a joke. It just seemed like a Mad Madison Montgomery song for some reason. **

**Thanks brigid1318, Intuitive Guest (I love what you said about seeking innocence, that was beautiful, thank you) Jurana Keri, MaverickPaxAPunch, Anticipatory Guest (all kinds of verbs, yes), and Jillow Bear (ha, I agree) for your gracious reviews.**

**Thanks to Crimsonbattlefield for adding your support as well. **


	12. She Brings Me Back

I do not own American Horror Story: Coven.

I do not own zombie boys. *relief*

On Dry Land

Chapter 12: She Brings Me Back

* * *

No matter where I am, how lost in the darkness I am, Zoe always brings me back.

She did it when I was dead.

She did it when I was alive-but-not-alive.

Zoe always brings me back.

She said we were leaving. The coven, the house, the city.

She said we were going to Epcot.

I don't know where or what Epcot is.

I just know I can't go.

Because the world is too big out there.

Too big and scary and what if I lose control?

What if I can't control all the badness inside of me?

What if I hurt somebody?

What if I hurt Zoe?

I can't go.

I'm scared.

I don't want to tell her I'm afraid.

I don't want her to hate me or be mad at me or not love me anymore.

But I have to trust her.

And so I tell her.

"I'm afraid."

And she doesn't understand.

Because she thinks it's all gone away, my bad darkness.

It's not.

_I'm afraid, Zoe._

". . . of me hurting you . . . or somebody else."

Ms. Fiona's fix helps me control it.

So far.

Voicing these thoughts, hearing them out loud, knowing sweet Zoe's hearing them too makes me cry.

I don't want to.

Mad Madison says men don't cry like babies.

Mad Madison's wrong about a lot of things.

Maybe she's wrong about this.

But I still don't want to.

I've been trying to do better. Be stronger, be smarter, be calmer.

For me. And Zoe.

But sometimes the darkness inside talks to me.

And I worry I'll listen.

Zoe doesn't.

Zoe's strong. And brave.

And next to me.

She touches me, holds me, talks to me.

She doesn't hate me or my darkness or my tears.

She just believes in me.

"I'm _not_ scared of you," she says softly.

Maybe she should be.

I try to tell her. I try.

"I love you, Zoe."

And I do, I really do. So much.

"But it's not your decision."

But I don't get through to her. She doesn't listen.

She pulls me back, runs her fingers through my hair in that way she knows I like that calms me, and speaks quiet words in my hungry ears that sound like they belong to other people.

I let her talk, but my darkness, my fear talks back.

And I turn and put my hands on her fragile, delicate head. Too quickly and it scares her. The dark voice inside me laughs because it knows what I could do to her. So swift and abrupt she'd never see it coming. She'd never have time to defend herself.

And I could lay her head, loose and wobbly on its broken neck on my shoulder and hold her for a while, pretending she wasn't dead, pretending I hadn't just killed my light.

And talk to her and pretend the dark voice in my head's not laughing at me and my uncontrollable badness.

But I love Zoe. I don't want to hurt her or scare her. So I push the voice away and carefully relax my fingers and run them through her silky, soft hair.

Kiss her cute little nose.

And try to see myself the way she does, try to believe in the possibility of myself the way she does.

I try.

* * *

So we run away together.

We try.

I want to believe we'll be okay.

I want to believe I'll be okay with Zoe next to me.

Because I love her.

And she loves me.

Though I don't know why.

We run for the bus and hold onto each other.

We smile, we laugh.

I'm excited, feeling good.

When I look at her, I forget about my badness and the dark voice inside.

Because the light is in her eyes and she looks like an angel all over again.

And I love her so much that I'm risking everything, all my sanity, and carefully practiced control, just to run away with her and make her happy.

And I love her.

_I love you, Zoe._

And we make it, we just make it to the bus, out of breath and giggling, we make it.

I sit down in the very front seat so I can see everything and don't miss anything new.

Zoe sits beside me, her long, straight hair tangled and her pale cheeks pink.

I'm breathing hard and fast.

And I can't believe we've made it.

But did we?

Really?

* * *

We did.

A little.

We get off the bus in a place Zoe calls Orlando.

I kinda remember it. Something about a talking mouse and a goofy dog?

We walk everywhere and eat orange juicy fruit.

Zoe laughs and the sun is in her smile and her eyes.

I kiss her. Over and over, I kiss her.

Her lips, her tongue, her skin, taste like that bright, juicy, orange fruit we're eating.

She's more delicious than ever before.

And she laughs and smiles and lets me.

Like she _wants_ me to.

I feel like we're free.

And happy.

And I try to be good.

It's easy when I look at Zoe.

It's so warm here, she says. We could camp out under the stars. Make love in the moonlight.

Then she blushes a little and it's adorable.

I smile at her, drinking her joy in like an elixir of life and freedom and happiness.

Anything she wants, I'll do.

Just to feel the way I do now. And to see the happiness and freedom that _she_ feels.

We sit under a dead, rotted tree and eat the orange fruit (it's actually _called_ an 'orange', isn't that nicely convenient?) and talk and laugh like we're normal people.

The tree is just a tree. It doesn't seem like a reflection of my dead, rotted soul. Not right then anyway.

The sun's warm and sinks into my every pore, warming me all the way from my bones out.

The fruit tastes delicious. It makes my body feel alive and tingly, like I'm healthy and normal.

And it feels so _good_.

I haven't felt so good since Ms. Fiona fixed me, since Zoe brought me back.

I'm not even sure if I ever felt quite this good even when I was a real boy.

I think we might be okay. I want to believe it so much.

And I try to be good. I really do.

* * *

But when that drunk, smelly guy shows up and yells at Zoe, I hate him.

When she says peaceful words and he yells back at her, I hate him.

I hate him so much I hit him, snap his neck, and kill him for sucking the freedom and innocence and joy out of her face and out of our day with his mean ugliness, so like Mad Madison's.

And Zoe screams my name and I know I've been bad again.

That I've ruined everything, even more than he did.

And that I was right all along, that I couldn't do it.

She seems a little surprised at herself when she brings him back to life.

I'm not, not really.

She brought me back.

And I was dead a lot longer.

And in a lot more pieces too.

So this guy, being dead a few seconds, is a cinch for sweet Zoe.

But she still seems surprised by it all the same.

And then she speaks to me.

She says she's not going to be selfish, that she's not going to run away and avoid her responsibilities like Fiona did.

She says she'll protect and guide her coven even though she doesn't know to how to do that yet.

And then she says one more thing.

"We have to go back, Kyle."

And I'm still not surprised.

Just sad.

* * *

**Thanks to brigid1318 (yeah, yeah, I'm a closet Gaga fan myself, shhh, don't tell), MaverickPaxAPunch, and the Many Adjectived Guest (dang, that was awesome!) for your excellent reviews.**

**And by the way, Many Adjectived Guest, demand anything you like, it means you're excited about the characters and the story. And hopefully you saw some sweetness here in this chapter. I've got a really excellent reunion chapter all written out for Saturday. So have faith, yes? I'll bring when I can. And bring it good. I hope. ;)**


	13. Cage Match

I do not own American Horror Story: Coven.

I do not own zombie boys. *relief*

On Dry Land

Chapter 13: Cage Match

* * *

I _was_ surprised when Misty Day showed up at the coven house and nearly knocked Mad Madison's head off with a roundhouse slap.

_Whoa, maybe she broke her Stevie too._

It scared me, it really did.

I'd never seen a girl hit like a pro wrestler, least of all the sweet, peaceful, hippie swamp witch who softly sang to me while my body tried to both heal itself and reject all its wrong parts.

The bizarre, red-haired crone didn't approve of the fight. She seemed mildly annoyed by all the loud noises and unladylike behavior. And bored.

No one else seemed to mind at all.

The two witches went at each other like rabid dogs (I know, I've been one) and we just sort of watched in shocked, morbid curiosity.

Except Ms. Cordelia.

She didn't have any eyes left. So I guess she just listened in shocked, morbid curiosity.

None of us spectators much spoke. Well, mostly nobody.

"This is _awesome_!" the big fat black girl, Queenie, gasped in delight.

Yeah, it kind of actually was.

My sweet Zoe didn't think so.

I thought she would secretly enjoy it the most, from what Mad Madison had made her suffer.

"No, it's not! Stop!"

I was wrong.

But that's why I have the darkness inside me and she's so full of the light.

I carry the darkness for her.

We cautiously followed the brawlers from one room to the next, staying well back from the fight. We wanted to _see_, we just didn't want to get _hit_.

Misty, the Amazon Warrior Swamp Witch, really worked Mad Madison over good.

She even made her crawl. And then kicked her in the backside for her efforts.

It was really very brutal.

So much so that all my darkness finally ran out of me and left.

"Enough!"

I got between them, pulled them apart. They were screaming like banshees, hurting my head.

I probably would have taken a hit from one or the another of them, except a new crazy person entered this Jerry Springer (some memories never die, even if you once have) fray and gave them a new target throw their to hatred at.

One that drew them all together as a unit, a coven, once more.

A tall, older man with an axe, bellowing and advancing and ready to swing.

"Wow, did _you_ walk into the wrong house," Mad Madison muttered.

For once I actually agreed with her. This guy was dead meat.

They threw him back against the stairs like a sack of old potatoes.

And I was really glad I was their guard dog and not the one being guard dogged.

But who was he?

"I'd know that voice anywhere," Ms. Cordelia announced calmly. "It's the Axeman."

_Well, that's easy. And explains the axe._

There was blood all over him.

And when Ms. Cordelia figured out whose, her shock was so thick that I nearly choked on it.

"This blood is my mother's."

* * *

"Somebody's got to kill this creep."

Queenie was right.

"He's a psycho mass murderer."

Mad Madison was right.

"Is there anyone here of whom that could not be said?"

I guess Myrtle Snow had her own point of view. Which was also right.

_No, well . . . no._

It might have been funny to me if I wasn't so furious.

And the fact that she didn't want to kill him.

Something about music and evil and some guy named Cervantes.

"Where there is music, there can be no evil."

He was wrong.

She was wrong too.

Ms. Fiona. The woman who'd fixed me and given me enough of myself back so that I could live as a human and be with Zoe.

The man sagging against the stairs had killed her.

He had to die.

And I was the coven guard dog, as she had named me.

So it was my job to kill him.

Not in front of sweet Zoe though. I'd done enough of that to her.

Plus then there'd be a big mess to clean up too.

I figured I'd drag him outside and finish him off.

Mad Madison wasn't worried about any of that.

She stepped forward and drove his own axe so deep into his gut that I would have wondered that he wasn't cut in two.

If I wasn't flinching away to avoid being dismembered myself.

_Taking you apart is going to be so much more fun._

She wouldn't blink if she killed me too. She wouldn't give it a second thought.

Which was terrifying.

_Not right now, Madison! Him! Get _him_!_

Her viciousness scared me.

But I guess I always saw it coming.

I knew that night at the party that she was going to be trouble for some guy.

I just never guessed who. Or how many.

Or how much she'd _enjoy_ it.

I stood, stunned, as the bloody man scrambled to get any from the blood-thirsty witches.

Misty Day stalked past me, all her pretty fairy dust evaporated in a cloud of fury and hate.

"We really don't need a man to protect us."

_Boy, I've _really_ got to get her a new Stevie to mellow her back out. Wow._

And then they killed him. Stabbed him to death like a stuck pig.

Mad Madison. Queenie.

Even Zoe did it, her face covered in blood, screaming and stabbing.

I was glad she was strong enough to not cower up and die.

But I didn't like to see her light turned into my darkness.

I thought I'd carried for her.

But I was wrong on that too.

And it scared me.

And made me sad.

* * *

When they'd finished destroying the man who'd destroyed Ms. Fiona, Mrs. Cordelia said it was time to hang the painting.

In honor, in remembrance.

The blood-drenched girls cleaned themselves up and we all crowded together in the parlor.

Ms. Cordelia told me to hang it.

So I did.

It was huge and heavy.

In it, Ms. Fiona sits in a chair, a little secret smile on her face.

There's darkness around her. It looks like it's closing in on her, reaching out for her, like it's hungry for her blood.

And she just doesn't care.

Because she's Fiona Goode. And nothing beats her.

Not even death.

I let go of the gilded, gold frame and turned back to Zoe.

She still had blood on her face, little specks of it on her cheek, like red freckles.

I didn't flinch away from her because she's never flinched away from me.

I reached out gently and wiped them away off her beautiful white skin.

She smiled at me, thinking I was just touching her for comfort.

I let her think it.

Because I love her.

They said nice things, the witches did, things that probably weren't all true.

Until Ms. Cordelia with her creepy scar eyes, threw all their nice words into a fire of truth and contempt.

"She was a _horrible_ Supreme."

Then she announced they would all begin the test of the Seven Wonders to find the next Supreme.

And I felt scared for them.

But mostly for sweet Zoe.

* * *

**Honestly, that fight was one of my favorite things to _ever_ happen on this show. _Ever. _I mean, it was _awesome_!**

**Anyway, thanks to brigid1318, MaverickPaxAPunch, and littlexkiller for your ongoing reviews. Thanks you all, you're wonderful!**

**As for you, Sweet Mystery Guest, let me first say your reviews are so much appreciated in their kindness and generosity. And as for your idea, maybe a little one shot after I finish this story? I don't have any thoughts right now, but that could all change in a split second with me and my brain. I'll do my best. :)**


	14. Most Final of Finals

I do not own American Horror Story: Coven.

I do not own zombie boys. *relief*

On Dry Land

Chapter 14: Most Final of Finals

* * *

I can never compare the Academy to anything in my previous life.

But during the days leading up to the Seven Wonders, it so much like finals week I thought I might be stuck in a dream.

The witches were practicing their skills, becoming as strong and as fast and as smart in them as they could.

And they had no room for anything else.

I was really glad I was able to take care of myself again.

Or I might have died.

Again.

The coven guard dog, or whatever I was now that Misty Day announced they didn't need me to protect them, didn't need to understand the Seven Wonders.

But I did know that Zoe needed her space.

So when she piled her bed with books and levitated it off the floor, I didn't say anything. I left her alone. I put on the black headphones she bought me (after Mad Madison sullenly took hers back) and practiced my reading on the laptop.

I was up to Dr. Suess.

I might have thought he was weird, (I mean some of the animals in that zoo were _creepy_) but I lived in a house full of teenage witches.

So he was actually really boring.

But I was learning to read again.

And do math.

And write.

I wasn't completely dumb in these skills, just a little rusty.

And I wanted to get better.

I thought if Zoe didn't die in the Seven Wonders and I kept practicing and got good enough, I would write her little notes and jokes and leave them under her pillow or in her underwear drawer so she would find them and smile.

I had a lot of time to practice.

The house was so quiet I got nervous and jumpy and had to stop from whispering to myself when I made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for my suppers at night.

But I didn't interrupt her.

I didn't ask for kisses or hugs, though I wanted them.

I didn't complain when I fell asleep alone or woke up by myself.

Because Zoe needed her time to get strong.

And survive.

I didn't care if she was the Supreme or not.

I just wanted her to live.

* * *

On Sunday, I dressed in my best somebody-else's suit to show my seriousness and support.

For Zoe.

Because I wanted her to succeed.

And not die.

I lit the candles, one a time, starting with Mad Madison's.

And ending with my Zoe's.

I didn't look at any of them.

Not until I got to her.

I kept my face blank, my eyes quiet.

_You can do this, Zoe. I believe in you._

Then I stepped away and watched.

Misty was uncertain; she didn't know if she could do it.

Mad Madison, of course, never passed up an opportunity to be hateful.

"You can go back to your swamp."

I actually kind of hoped that she would. I thought she would be so much happier there, with her Stevie and her peaceful existence.

But I didn't speak.

It wasn't my place.

Misty's candle did come to her after some concentration, as did the others'.

I'm proud to say Zoe's was the fastest.

* * *

Concillium. Mind control.

Or something.

I wasn't really paying attention.

I was holding the wine tray, still as a statue.

Well, mostly.

Except there was a hair up my nose and I just could not get it _out_.

No one noticed, thankfully.

The girls were all having too much trouble.

Smacking each other around with their Jedi mind control powers and stuff.

It was kind of funny, actually.

Until Mad Madison and Zoe faced off.

I got a little scared then, wondering if they would claw each other's eyes out.

But I guess Mad Madison thought that would be too boring.

So she played with my wine tray.

I tried to control it, I really did.

But she won and I dropped it. The crystal goblets broke and wine spilled everywhere.

Then Mad Madison made Zoe slap herself.

And made me kiss her in front of everyone.

In front of Zoe.

I tried not to, I really did.

Standing there, forcing me to press my lips to hers, she still couldn't wipe the disgust off my face.

So she made me lick her boots instead.

Well, almost.

And I just knew then that one day I would kill her with my own two hands.

When Zoe bounced me to my feet like a dangly puppet and made me walk over and kiss _her_, I almost hated her too.

Almost.

But my hate was redirected at its well deserved target when Mad Madison made me wrap my hands around my sweet Zoe's delicate neck and choke her.

I saw the fear in her eyes.

I knew I would never be able to break free.

And when it was over and my Zoe was dead, I would kill everyone in that room for letting it happen.

Starting with Madison Montgomery.

* * *

The next test was something about going to hell and back.

They lay on the floor like big black flower petals, chanting in unison.

I saw Zoe hold Misty's hand for a moment before letting go.

They were competitors, adversaries in this series of tests.

And still they showed compassion for each other.

I almost smiled.

Almost.

Then they closed their eyes and slept.

I watched them, wondering where they were and what they were doing.

Queen woke up first, terrified by fried chicken.

_Didn't I used to like fried chicken? Well, I guess I won't say anything to her about that now._

Then Mad Madison . . .

_Oh, _you're_ back. Bummer. _

. . . ranting about musicals.

And then my sweet Zoe.

_Oh thank God._

Who looked up at me with terror in her eyes.

And confessed that her version of hell was me.

Breaking up with her over and over, telling her I didn't love her anymore.

For a split second, I held my own terror of Mad Madison controlling me again and making me say it was true, that I didn't love her.

And making me kiss her again or screw her right in front of everyone, in front of Zoe.

But to my relief, none of that happened.

I was able to move and speak my own words.

And I did. I went to her, knelt in my dark suit. Kissed her hair and held her beautiful, sweet head gently for the few moments she fought to pull herself together.

It broke my heart to see her so upset and torn apart.

But another little secret part of me felt happy. Glad.

That she cared about me so much that it would do this to her.

Even when she moved, I stayed near her, wanting to prove that I would always be there for her.

Always.

Misty Day, the hippie swamp witch who tried to heal me with alligator dung and Stevie Nicks, never woke up.

I don't exactly know where she is or what she's doing.

I wonder if Stevie's songs are in there with her there.

I wish for her they are.

But I guess they're probably not.

It's sad to me; she always loved Stevie.

And she helped me when I couldn't help myself.

* * *

We waited all night for her.

I made drinks upon request and handed them out.

Tried to read books in my head when I got bored.

_Look what we found in the park, in the dark. We will take him home. We will name him Clark._

Watched Zoe worry and wait.

And wondered if the night would ever end.

It was so long.

Everybody kept watch over her lifeless form.

Even Mad Madison shut up for a while.

Though I still don't think she cared.

Ms. Cordelia did. Her with her scar eyes. She cared plenty. She rocked Misty Day's still body and talked to her and tried to bring her back.

And she cried when the body crumbled to ashes.

I felt sad that Misty was gone away.

And I was just glad it wasn't Zoe.

* * *

**Catch the Dr. Suess quote? Apparently it's quite disturbing, what with the big blue thing in the jar and all. Funny I never realized that as a kid. Ha.**

**Thanks to Nellychick123, brigid1318, Jurana Keri, MaverickPaxAPunch, littlexkiller, and Shuddering Guest for your great reviews!**

**Okay, Shuddering Guest, I know I said I didn't have any thoughts for the one shot. That lasted all of ten minutes and now I'm halfway through it. I'll let you know the title sometime in this story's author's notes. Yay for inspiration! And thanks :D**


	15. Plunged into Darkness

I do not own American Horror Story: Coven.

I do not own zombie boys. *relief*

On Dry Land

Chapter 15: Plunged into Darkness

* * *

After Misty Day's ashes stopped swirling and Ms. Cordelia stopped crying, she called a temporary halt to the Seven Wonders. She insisted the girls rest to regain their strength.

Zoe didn't say much.

I didn't try and make her.

I just held her. Even when she slept. Even when I slept.

I never left her side.

She didn't seem to mind.

I know I didn't.

I couldn't fix the mess our world had become.

I couldn't bring back Misty Day from where ever she was lost.

But I could hold my Zoe.

And keep her warm.

* * *

Transmutation was the first time I saw her smile and have fun since Florida.

She was here, she was there.

Zoe was everywhere.

They all seemed to have fun.

I swear Mad Madison Montgomery almost smiled. And I could almost see the person she could have been.

If she wasn't who she was.

I was smiling on that porch beside the other witches. I couldn't help it.

The girls, they looked, they _all_ looked, free.

Happy and laughing and free.

I don't think I'll ever forget the easy, carefree smile Zoe threw me as she ran across the yard in her loose, billowy clothes, laughing in the bright sunshine.

Because ten seconds later, she was dead.

Impaled upon the black gate spikes, blood gurgling from her mouth, twitching and trembling.

And my world was destroyed, shredded, gone.

Because my Zoe was dead.

My beautiful, innocent, perfect, sweet Zoe.

She was dead.

And I couldn't bring her back.

I had no powers, no abilities, no worth to anyone.

I was nothing without Zoe.

I was a empty husk, an hollowed-out shell.

I screamed and I cried and I begged and I pleaded.

When they lifted her down with their minds, I cradled her precious torn body in my shaking arms. I kissed her face and stroked her hair. I carried her to Ms. Cordelia's greenhouse, praying and mumbling reassuring words to my dead Zoe and crying all the way.

* * *

Queenie tried to bring her back.

She wasn't powerful enough.

She breathed and she cried and she did her best.

If I wasn't so traumatized, I would have thanked her for her efforts.

But I couldn't think. I couldn't move. I couldn't talk. I couldn't breathe.

Because my Zoe, my light, was dead on that cold metal table.

And Mad Madison Montgomery was gloating.

"Guess who wasn't Supreme after all?' she quipped.

And I knew I was going to kill her.

But before I could, Ms. Cordelia made Queenie take me away.

I think she knew.

Knew that I was ready to kill Madison.

And she wasn't ready for me to.

Yet.

* * *

Queenie took me upstairs, gave me a drink of water, and made me lie down.

"I'm so sorry, Kyle. I really tried."

I nodded blankly without looking at her.

"I know."

Queenie put a hand on my arm. I might have thought that was weird because she wasn't much of a toucher and ignored me most of the time.

But I was too empty to care.

"She was the best of us. And she really loved you."

I didn't respond because I didn't have any words for her or anybody else. My only words were for Zoe, chanting over and over again in my head like a prayer.

_I love you, Zoe . . . Please come back to me . . . I love you, Zoe . . . Please come back to me . . ._

Queenie sighed again and left me alone to rest.

But I couldn't stay for long.

When she had been gone awhile, I went back.

To where I belonged.

To Zoe.

* * *

I went back and held her thin, frail, once strong hand in my own. Kissed it, pressed my warm lips to the cold flesh.

And I cried.

I cried because I loved her so much.

She'd always been there for me. She'd brought me back from the dead. Tried to give me a new life.

She loved me when I didn't deserve it. She made me think I could be something.

Be human.

Be okay.

And now she was gone.

Forever.

And I had no purpose, no reason to live and breathe.

I held her delicate, lifeless hand with Billy's hands, now my own.

And I cried.

And I said stupid, mindless things that fell out of my mouth like my soul being sliced up into tiny, bloody pieces.

"Why'd you leave me?"

I knew she didn't choose it. I knew. But I was regressed, a simple thinking child.

And I was hurting so very badly.

I don't know whose heart I have inside my body, but right then, it felt like it was being ripped out of my chest.

"You said you'd never leave me."

I knew it wasn't her fault, that she didn't choose to die, that she didn't choose to leave me.

I stayed there for a long time. I stayed there with her cold, dead corpse.

I stayed there and thought about everything between us.

Back when I was me, an up and coming college student and she was the prettiest girl at the party.

I thought about her trying to make me, the scared, feral zombie boy, better.

I thought about her eyes when she saw me sitting there with Ms. Fiona playing gin, how they glowed.

I thought about how much she'd loved me and how much she cared.

I thought about how she was dead and I was alone.

_I love you, Zoe. _

_I miss you._

* * *

I don't know how long I stayed by her side.

It could have been minutes or hours or days or months. It could have been years.

It could have been _centuries_.

I know I didn't eat, I didn't sleep.

I left only to use the bathroom, because even in my distraught, desperate state, I wasn't a total beast.

Not anymore.

I was Zoe's Kyle.

I was a human being.

When I finally did leave, my numb feet took me to the one person in all the world I hated the most.

Mad Madison Montgomery.

Lunging a big, heavy suitcase and crying and spewing her vile hatred all over the place.

She ignored me, of course she would.

She was an important movie star. And a powerful witch.

And I guess not the next Supreme.

But none of that mattered to me.

Because my angel Zoe was dead.

I didn't know I was going to speak until I did.

And my voice didn't sound like mine anymore.

It sounded deeper, more dangerous.

Murderous.

"You let her die."

She tried to stomp, shove past me.

I'd always let her before.

This time I stopped her.

With my hands around her throat.

"Why did you let her die?"

_She was all that mattered to me. And you took her away. Just because you could._

I slammed her down on the bed, let her see the dark murder in my eyes.

Her skinny, bony hands scrabbled helplessly at mine.

She didn't have a chance against me.

I was rock.

I was iron.

I was Death.

And I wanted her to _know_ why she was dying. And why she was suffering before she did.

Because she'd let my Zoe die.

"You know that dark place!" I snarled. "We've both been there!"

Darkness, cold. Alone.

My Zoe was there now.

And I couldn't get her out.

But that heinous, wretched, selfish bitch _could_.

And she _chose_ not to.

"Why?!" I demanded.

Once, just once, I would cut through her lies and deceit and bullshit.

And make her be honest.

Make her tell me the truth.

Her weepy raccoon eyes looked up at me, scared and fearful.

"I did it for us," she whined. "I love you."

Her words first confused, then sickened me.

_You?! Are you _kidding_ me?!_

She wasn't Zoe.

She didn't love me or want me for me.

She just wanted me for what I could do for her. So that she could control me.

She continue whimpering and begging, telling me she loved me.

So I wouldn't kill her.

And I _hated_ her.

More than I've ever hated anyone or anything in my entire life. Either of them.

More even, than my mother.

Because my mother never hurt Zoe.

So I said the worst thing I could think to say to her crocodile tears and shrill pleadings.

"You're not that good an actress."

And I tightened my grip on her scrawny throat.

She couldn't breathe, couldn't talk anymore.

That was okay. That was good.

I didn't want any more words from her. Not ever again. They would have just been pointless anyway.

Just like everything else.

Because my Zoe was dead.

I poured all my rage, all my hate, all my pain into her with my eyes, with my strangling hands.

And I killed her.

I squeezed the life from her body.

And when I let go, Mad Madison was no longer mad.

She was dead.

Again.

And nobody was going to bring her back.

_Ever._

I'd torch her body and scatter her ashes to the winds if I had to.

She was staying gone this time.

She wasn't going to hurt Zoe or me or anyone else, ever again.

If I never did anything else in my strange life, if I fell over died right then, at least I would have accomplished that one thing.

I would have killed the monster that let my Zoe die.

* * *

I stood, numb and empty, staring at her limp corpse on that bed.

Thinking Zoe might be upset that I killed Mad Madison.

Remembering Zoe was dead now and wouldn't ever know.

Realizing that when the other women found out, they would probably kill me.

And that I didn't care.

Then _he_ showed up.

You know, really, after all I've been through, it wasn't even weird when the ancient-looking, long-haired old butler showed up and stroked Mad Madison's hair with a broken off doll hand.

When he leaned over and peered into her still face like a man inspecting a yard sale treasure.

And slowly spoke the calmest words I'd ever heard.

"She'd already started packing. That's helpful."

_Uhhh . . ._

"No one will wonder where the body went once we bury her."

_We?_

He was so, so _casual_ about the whole thing.

And I couldn't help myself.

Through my blackness I found myself wondering if I'd finally gone insane.

"Who the hell are you?"

Then he slowly straightened up and looked at me and replied as if it were obvious.

"The help."

I could only l think one thought then.

_Can you?_

As it turned out, he could.

And he was right.

Nobody wondered.

Nobody cared.

Least of all me.

* * *

**Goodbye, Madison Montgomery. So long, farewell, you hateful, bobble-headed b . . .**

**Ahem, sorry, where were we?**

**Oh yeah and the interaction between Queenie and Kyle is all me. 'Cause I felt like it. **

**Thanks to Jurana Keri, brigid1318, MaverickPaxAPunch, littlexkiller, and Generous Guest (sorry about those feels, sweetie, but it's kinda what I do. Well, _try_ to do anyway) for your encouraging reviews. You're all fantastic and that's the truth.**

**And to new Gracious Guest (I had to look up 'Scherazade' &amp; wow thanks!), I think I can definitely do that. It would be a dream to continue writing for Jimmy. And to actually be able to make it happy too! :D Wonder if you'd mind a multi-chapter thing. Called "Jimmy, Not Moses".**


	16. The Light Returns

I do not own American Horror Story: Coven.

I do not own zombie boys. *relief*

On Dry Land

Chapter 16: The Light Returns

* * *

Me and the strange old man had just finished burying Madison in the little garden.

It hadn't been too difficult a task.

If I could have felt anything in my dead husk of a heart, I would have felt glad it was finally over.

I couldn't.

He said something about telling whoever asked that I had taken it upon myself to prepare a special flower bed in honor of the new Supreme and was only awaiting her instructions on which flowers were her favorite.

And that I should say I hadn't seen Madison at all.

Whether or not they truly believed it, the story would give them all the excuse they needed to allow Madison to fade away and the coven to move on from her.

Then he smiled and turned around and seemed to vanish as he walked away.

After trying to work that strangeness out in my mind, I gave up and left the garden.

I went back into the house, upstairs to Zoe's old room.

Showered. Threw away the clothes I was wearing when I killed and buried Madison Montgomery.

And put on new clothes.

Fresh, clean clothes.

Clothes that my Zoe would never see me in, never touch me in.

I didn't know why I was even bothering, other than the fact I had already spent enough time purposelessly naked.

I bent over to tie my shoes . . .

_Over, under, pull it tight, make a bow, and to do it right . . ._

Then straightened up.

My shoes were tied.

Now I just had to figure out what to do with the rest of my life without Zoe.

I stood up, lost and alone.

And she was there.

Framed in the doorway, standing in a ray of light, looking at me.

Alive.

Like she'd never even died.

"Z . . . _Zoe_?"

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't blink.

If I did, she might disappear.

"Hey, Kyle."

Her voice sounded real. She looked real.

Looking at me like she was drinking me in.

"But . . . you . . . died . . ."

She smiled, like an angel sent back to earth. To me.

"Cordelia brought me back."

I wanted to reach out and touch her but I couldn't. She might turn to mist and float away from me.

"Where's Madison?"

I tried to think of a suitable lie, the one the weird guy had told me. But I couldn't.

I couldn't lie to Zoe, not returned-to-me-and-not-dead Zoe.

"She's . . . gone," I confessed quietly.. "I killed her. For not saving you."

She seemed to consider this thoughtfully for a long moment and numb terror struck me that she would walk away from me then.

But she didn't.

I waited. It was all I could do. Wait and wish I could hope.

Finally she spoke and my life paused on those two simple syllables.

"Okay."

A calm, mild answer that ended the discussion as soon as it started. In a less emotionally intense moment, I might have wondered if that was the end of it. Or if she was going to be mad at me for it later.

But she didn't seem to care so I let it go.

Because she was alive now. And that was all that mattered.

"Where is everyone?"

She smiled then like she knew a secret.

"Resting."

I wanted to reach up and wipe away the tears of relief and happiness rolling down my cheeks but I couldn't do that either.

I could only stare.

"Are you . . . okay?"

Wrecked brain like me? Body wrong like me? Angry and sick like Madison?

She came to me and easily touched her hand to my cheek. It was warm and gentle, just like it had always been.

"Better," she replied lightly.

I stood there, trembling and crying and hoping she was real.

"I love you, Kyle," she whispered to my aching heart. "I missed you."

She sounded so happy, so relieved. She sounded the way I felt. Then she stretched up and kissed me, wiping away my tears with her gentle touch.

I wrapped her up in my embrace, probably squeezing a little too hard in all my crushing relief, but she didn't complain. She just squeezed back.

It felt so good to have her in my arms again. She fit just right.

And her mouth was soft and sweet and moist.

She didn't taste dead, not like Madison.

She tasted alive and warm.

She tasted like, she smelled like, she felt like, Zoe.

Warm, alive, sweet Zoe.

I pulled back from her a little, my hands lost in her silky hair, our foreheads pressed together. She was smiling up into my eyes, brighter than I've ever seen. I kissed her perfect little nose and she giggled.

That small sound was like the whole world coming back to life. Black and white becoming color.

I can't remember ever feeling happier, in _any_ life I've _ever_ had.

"I love you, Zoe."

She kissed me again, so sweet and sincere and full that I lost my breath and my thoughts. Lost everything but her. Then she let go and moved away from me. Closed and locked the doors and came back.

Wrapped her arms around me again, still smiling.

And began mischievously pulling off my clothes.

I let her, a big, goofy smile plastered all over my face as we covered each other in kisses and caresses.

_Whoa, she really _is_ happy to be alive. Oh . . . Wow._

* * *

It was different with her, with my Zoe.

With Mad Madison, especially at first, it had been rough and animalistic.

Because I _was_ an animal then. And I didn't know any better.

And she didn't care.

And later with both of them together, it was fun and felt good but it was strange. They, mostly Mad Madison, told me what to do, showed me.

And I did what I was told. To both of them. With both of them.

Even though I always favorited Zoe when I got the chance.

Later after Ms. Fiona fixed my body and my brain and I could think clearer and easier, I refused Mad Madison completely (which made her really_, really_ angry) and chose only Zoe.

But there wasn't really much time for that because we were always in the middle of some crisis or another.

Now though, I had thought I had lost her and she had thought she had lost me.

And now that we were back together and everything was quiet, we made the rest of the world take a time-out.

At least for a little while.

I wasn't harsh and rough with her. I wasn't an animal. I wasn't a dog.

I was a man.

And I knew what I wanted.

I wanted to make her feel all the love I had for her.

Everything I couldn't quite say.

I was gentle but not timid. I was . . . I was . . . _passionate_.

I'm not an expert, I know I'm not.

But I think I did okay.

She certainly seemed to like it. I could tell by the way she moved, the sounds she made, how she bit her lip, and the way she gazed at me.

And the way she smiled and clung to me when it was over.

I liked it too. No, I _loved_ it. The way she felt, the way she made _me_ feel.

We fit together so well, just the two of us with nobody else in the mix.

It felt so _good_.

And so right.

I never wanted to let her go.

I could have stayed in her arms forever.

She traced the lines of my thick, ugly scars with her feathery touch. _Kissed_ them sweetly, tenderly, like she wasn't turned off by them. Like she loved them because they were a part of me.

Loved them. And me.

The house was quiet, everyone gone off to rest or become Supremes or blow up the world or whatever.

It didn't matter.

The only thing that mattered was us.

But eventually we did get hungry.

And tiptoed, giggling and tickling and shushing each other, downstairs to see if we could find some food.

To sneak back upstairs.

To feed each other and talk and laugh.

And . . . well . . .

* * *

**Well, sweeties, how was _that_?**

**T****he show completely failed me on reuniting a relieved Kyle with a resurrected Zoe. Boo! So I wrote my own. Yay! And hopefully it's satisfying to you because I adore it.**

**If you think about it, this could quite possibly be the first time either of them experience a deep, meaningful, loving 'experience'. What with Kyle's aforementioned situation and Zoe's completely different situation, and their 'sharing' situation with Madison, and all the 'we're about to die' dramas.**

**Or I'm just a big nut of a romantic. *shrugs* I can accept that ;)**

**And yeah, yeah, creepy old butler dude said to not tell. But I think there are very few (if any) secrets between these two. At least not right now.**

**Thanks to brigid1318, MaverickPaxAPunch, and Gracious Guest (you can name yourself or not, I know who you are ;) for reviewing so loyally. **

**Alrighty people, two more chapters to go. And the last one's short. But you'll see. ;)**


	17. Life Goes On

I do not own American Horror Story: Coven.

I do not own zombie boys. *relief*

On Dry Land

Chapter 17: Life Goes On

* * *

So Madison Montgomery was dead.

Again.

Misty Day was lost to the netherworld.

And Cordelia Fox was the new Supreme.

Which all paled in comparison to the fact that my sweet beautiful Zoe was alive.

Alive.

Whole and complete and alive.

She wasn't confused and twisted up like I had been.

She wasn't vengeful and jaded like Madison.

She's not sure why, though she was happy about it.

I know why. I may not always know much, but I do know that.

Zoe was more beautiful on the inside than either of us ever hoped to be.

And that kind of light, that kind of _fire, _can't be diminished by just a few hours in the darkness.

When it gets air, it comes back again, brighter and warmer than ever before.

As far as her physical and mention condition, that's an easier answer.

Ms. Cordelia.

The Supreme.

She had the power beyond which Madison and, I'm sorry to say, my Zoe didn't have.

She could bring life back. Right and strong and confident.

With nothing that needed sprucing up.

And it probably helps that my Zoe wasn't in a bunch of little pieces either.

* * *

I don't know why they burned her.

Myrtle Snow.

It may have been her wacky hair.

Or her bizarre clothes.

It may have been the fact that she talked like she'd been smoking too much of the pot the college boys used to sell to fund their frat parties.

But knowing Ms. Cordelia's gentle nature, I guess not.

Zoe mentioned something to me.

Something about melon eyes or eye ballers.

And I didn't really understand the entire story.

But I just decided to trust Ms. Cordelia. Because Zoe did.

As they were leaving, the odd red-haired witch turned to me suddenly.

"Always remember you love Zoe. Take care of her. Watch out for her. She needs you and you need her. Just like Coco Chanel and her jersey fabric."

It was the least weird thing I'd ever heard her say.

I nodded my head and smiled. She turned away, back rigid and straight, and strode out of the house to meet her death.

I stayed. Because Ms. Cordelia asked me to.

And they went out on a bright, sunny day, down to the rock quarry.

And burned her.

And when she came back and closed us up in our room, Zoe's stone wall crumbled and she cried in my arms, cradling her head against my scarred up chest.

I stroked her long soft hair and let her.

It took a long time.

I think she was crying about more than just Myrtle Snow.

I think it was a lot of things.

But I didn't ask.

I just held her.

And when she wore herself out and fell asleep, I held her then too.

_I love you, Zoe._

* * *

"It could be different for you now, you know."

Zoe and Queenie and I had been all sitting at the table, sipping different morning drinks.

Queenie had coffee.

Zoe had some sort of tea.

I had a coke. I love coke.

Not like I love Zoe, but as much as I could love any drink.

Queenie's statement was directed toward Zoe, who looked as lost as I felt.

"What?"

Queenie smirked a little, sipped her coffee, added even _more_ sugar, and sipped it again before responding.

"Your . . . condition. The one that alerted you to the fact that you're a witch." I noticed Zoe's face redden a little. "I bet it's gone now. Madison's heart murmur was gone. I bet your 'situation' is too."

I had no idea what she was talking about.

"Oh," Zoe's pretty pale voice was definitely changing color now.

I was worried. Was she getting sick?

"Yeah, I guess." Her voice sounded funny, like there was something stuck in her throat. "So?"

Queenie smirked even more, adding _more_ sugar to her coffee, and taking _another_ sip before answering.

She was clearly enjoying herself and whatever little game she was playing. She was reminding me of Madison then and I didn't like it. But I decided to wait before listening to the darkness inside me.

"So . . . it means you don't have to settle for former dead zombie boys anymore. You can go out and hook up with any guy you want without fear of banging him to death."

I turned to Zoe in confusion and saw she not only seemed to be changing colors but developing a problem with her eyes bulging out and her mouth coming unhinged.

Should I call a doctor or Ms. Cordelia or somebody?

_"Queenie!"_

Zoe's voice was squeakier too and I really felt like something bad was going to happen to her. It was becoming harder and harder for me to stay calm and still.

Was it a spell? Or a tea poison?

Why would Queenie be doing this to Zoe, after all they'd been through as a coven together? Weren't they friends now? Why would she do this?

A memory of college Kyle wandered through my mind, of boys picking on each other and saying awful things just to get a rise and prove something before letting it go and moving onto another topic.

I couldn't grasp the full understanding of their words and meanings now so I let the memory go, since it was so unhelpful anyway.

Meanwhile, Queenie had added _another_ serving of sugar to her coffee and I was distracted by wondering if she needed to drink it or eat it at this point.

"All I'm saying is you can have any guy that likes skinny, doe-eyed, blond, white girls. You don't have to settle."

Zoe seemed to be recovering from her sudden fit and was smiling at little at me now. She wasn't odd colors anymore and her pretty brown eyes were regular size and she had closed her mouth again.

She looked normal and in control.

I relaxed a little.

She shrugged at Queenie, reaching out to lay a warm hand on my thigh, which made the nerves there tingle.

"I don't want any guy. I just want this one."

Queenie set her sugar laden coffee cup down and folded her big arms in front of her, smirking all the wider.

Then she completely confused me by throwing a satisfied wink at me.

"Well, then, I guess she's your skinny, little white girl, Kyle."

"Okay," I replied easily.

And Zoe chuckled.

* * *

**Why did I add the Coco Chanel part? Dunno. Why not? Sounds like a Myrtle Snow thing to say anyway, yeah? ;)**

**Thanks to Jurana Keri, brigid1318, MaverickPaxAPunch, littlexkiller, and Gracious Guest (thanks, sweetie, you too) for your reviews.**

**And most humble of redirects, Gracious Guest. Chapter 16 of this story was the love scene, or as close I'm willing to write one. But thank you for the review on the one shot And I hope you enjoy the reminder of this story.**

**Last chap tomorrow!**


	18. Hello

I do not own American Horror Story: Coven.

I do not own zombie boys. *relief*

On Dry Land

Chapter 19: Hello

* * *

Welcome to Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies.

May I take your bags?

My, these are heavy, aren't they?

You must be planning on staying a while.

Good. We're glad you're here.

If you'd be so kind as to follow me, I'll show you to your room.

You'll be bunking with other girls of course.

But the beds are comfy enough and the rooms are bright and spacious.

The bathrooms are nice as well. Tubs, Loch Ness monster free.

Sorry, just a little inside joke, nothing to be concerned about.

I see your admiring our little garden out the window there.

It's really pretty, isn't it?

Yes, the flowers do grow particularly bright in that one corner, I know.

What's our special secret fertilizer there?

Oh, I'm sure I wouldn't remember the name of it. And anyway, it's top secret, passed down through generations.

This is your home now, if you like.

Ms. Cordelia Fox is your Supreme, a more kind and considerate leader than has ever been before. She understands your worry, your concern of not fitting in, not being normal.

We all do actually.

And you're not alone any more.

Yes, her Council is young, I know.

But they're brave and strong and wise. They have fantastic powers that grow with every challenge they face.

The dark, heavyset one, is nice (now) and known for being straight forward. That being said, I'd advise you not cross her for any reason. Or ask her to fry up some chicken.

And the other? The one with the bright brown eyes and special smile all for me?

That's Zoe Benson.

She's an angel in human form. She's gentle and kind and always keeps her word. She can also raise some serious hell when the situation calls for it.

They can be your family if you want.

They can care for you and teach you and guide you.

They can make you proud to be what you are.

And when you're done here, you can go out into the world stronger, smarter, and more confident than you thought you could ever be.

Pardon, what's that?

Me?

Oh, I apologize, I was so caught up, I forgot to introduce myself.

My name's Kyle.

I'm the help.

* * *

**And so ends my version of Kyle Spencer's American Horror Story: Coven. This chapter, as you have probably deduced, ****was inspired by the last scene of the show.**

**I've been saying this more and more frequently as of late, but I really didn't expect to write this. I enjoyed it though and hope you have as well.**

**A final thanks to the loyal reviewers of this story: brigid1318, littlexkiller, Jillow Bear, Gracious Guest, Jurana Keri, and MaverickPaxAPunch.**

**By the way, Gracious Guest, your reviews have been very inspiring. You've really been digging deep into this story and our Kyle (yeah, I said it, shut up) and finding all the humanity that Evan Peters played so close to the vest in this season. Thank you so much. Every one of your reviews is so touching I can hardly believe it. I just can't adequately express my humbleness and appreciation enough. :)**

**Thank you as well to those silent readers out there. I very much appreciate your time.**

**Well, until next time, Wonderful Readers, I wish you well with your endeavors and remember to make the world brighter where ever you are. ;)**


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